


be of love a little more careful than of anything

by writesaboutboys



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, i wanted to write larry and this happened, well well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-23
Updated: 2013-03-23
Packaged: 2017-12-06 05:06:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/731762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writesaboutboys/pseuds/writesaboutboys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis’ a writer. Harry’s a photographer. It shouldn’t work-and it doesn’t.</p>
            </blockquote>





	be of love a little more careful than of anything

He sits at the isolated table in the small coffee shop. He scribbles on a spare napkin, it’s nothing really. Just some random words he thinks he can make into something-a poem maybe. He looks up as his tea brought to him(“Two sugars please-and no milk.”) He smiles at the waiter sliding his napkin over to make room for the steaming mug. He knows it’s too hot to drink right away so instead he looks at the door, inspecting new visitors and-oh. Louis has never seen him before(and he would have). Louis doesn’t stare at his body that seems to go on forever. He doesn’t stare at his perfectly imperfect mess of curls placed on top of his head.

He does. 

The man sits down across from Louis. He doesn’t look up. The man introduces himself as Harry. Louis looks up cautiously and “Louis.” And the man-Harry-smiles. And Louis doesn’t think that “oh, he’s got a nice smile.”

Except how he does. 

And they talk a bit and they get each other’s numbers with Harry saying he’ll stay in contact and Louis giving a nod. And as quick as he came in, he was gone. And Louis let out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding. His lungs open and he feels as though he can breathe when he knows he never lost the ability to. And he hasn’t even known Harry for more than four hours and what is this he feels and why does it hurt and when will it stop.

And it’s not love, no, because Louis doesn’t love. Nothing but his writing and his books and his Yorkshire tea. And yeah, maybe he should love his mum or his sisters, but he likes them and that should be good enough. So he stares at the door like it holds some hidden answer to his feelings, but it doesn’t. Then the waiter who served him earlier is telling him that they’re locking up and how he spent all day talking to that curly haired kid. So, Louis gets up not forgetting his half tea soaked napkin and heads out the door. He digs his hands into the pockets of his heavy winter jacket and huffs. He can see his breath in the light of the moon. His nimble fingers [play](http://fuckoffgallagher.tumblr.com/post/31106495199/be-of-love-a-little-more-careful-than-of-anything) with the thin piece of paper that contains Harry’s number.

And he wonders why Harry didn’t enter his number into his [phone](http://fuckoffgallagher.tumblr.com/post/31106495199/be-of-love-a-little-more-careful-than-of-anything), but he doesn’t wonder for long because he’s at the entrance to his flat and he’s fiddling for his keys and he’s huffing and huffing. Because he can’t seem to find it but he does and he lets himself into his small flat. And he pulls out the paper with Harry’s number on it and dials. And it rings rings rings and then-“Hullo?” the voice vibrates against Louis’ eardrums and he likes it. “Hi” Louis whispers. ”Hello, Louis.” Harry breathes back and Louis can hear the smile in his voice. And that’s the start of it Louis thinks.

Louis’ a writer. Harry’s a photographer. It shouldn’t work-and it doesn’t. And there are ripped photos and smeared ink and tears and pleas and hugs and kisses and angry sex. But it works sometimes. And those sometimes can last, long enough they think. And Louis’ head is nuzzled into Harry’s neck and Harry is telling Louis how his day went and Louis is humming on Harry’s neck and it’s good. 

Neither of them really understand what attracted them to each other. They’re hesistant at first. With Zayn claiming, “I don’t know about him he doesn’t seem to fit.” And Louis just thinks Zayn’s being bias, he’s a writer too. And Louis ignores Zayn and Zayn rolls his eyes and mutters a “just wait.” Liam wearily tells Harry that Louis isn’t good for him. And Harry ignores him as Louis did with Zayn and goes to Louis’ flat. It’s his defense mechanism, he thinks. He’s never been a fighter physically or verbally, so he just leaves. But he comes back and says sorry and Liam says it’s ok and neither of them saying anything about Louis. 

So when one of their break ups(one of the many) happen, there are two different approaches. Zayn grumbles an “I fucking told you so.” And Louis punches him the face and walks out, too pissed to even attempt to care that he may have broken his best friend’s nose. 

And Harry curls up to Liam’s side silently crying, telling Liam how he was right. But Liam doesn’t take the ‘I told you so’ route(he’s much too sensitive of Harry’s feelings). Instead, he wraps his arms around Harry’s slim frame and whispers an “it’s gonna be alright” and a “calm down, Harry” and an “it’s ok, love” and a “just breathe it’s fine” and then a final “i love you” before Harry’s fast asleep in his lap, arched over his body like a broken kitten and Liam is his only source of life. And it’s cute, Liam thinks before he attempts to get up from the couch. But when Harry just latches on tighter Liam stays put and falls asleep.

But it’s Louis and Harry and they’re like magnets. Attracted(literally) to each other against their will. And Harry’s in this library he walks by, bored out of his mind. And Louis is writing, his new masterpiece he calls it. And they both look up at the same time, cerulean blue burning into orbs of emerald. And they both audibly groan out loud but they also both walk towards each other. And they both smash every part of their bodies together into a bruising kiss. And they both drag each other out of the library. And Louis is taking Harry to his flat. And Harry is sucking Louis off. And Louis is fucking Harry so hard into the mattress he knows he won’t be able to walk the next day. And they come simultaneously. And they wrap themselves into the warmth of each other. And they fall asleep next to each other, come and all, and that’s what they do. That’s what they are. And most people might disagree saying things like “that’s not a healthy relationship”(Jay) or “this isn’t good for you”(Anne) or “that’s not the way to have a good relationship”(Gemma) or even “you should stop this”(Lottie).  But they ignore the comments and the pleas. They use them as glue almost-motivation. Motivation to want to stay together to want to prove these people wrong. But they don’t(stay together that is).

And it’s another day with Louis and Harry. There’s screams and yells and tears and pleas and angry sex. And Louis is looking at the ceiling of their studio(Louis’ writings on one side, Harry’s photos on the other). ). Harry’s skimming through some of his old photos, the ones before Louis’. And he doesn’t note how much more positive they seem or how prettier or nicer or  _sweeter._ But he does. And Louis is talking, but Harry isn’t listening and he interrupts Louis’ rambling with a “do you think we should break up?” And Louis is sitting up right away, his face flashes with hurt and something else Harry can’t put his finger on before “Yeah, sure.” Louis says with a shrug “For how long?” And Harry pauses, because he wasn’t thinking when he asks that and he wants to take and to not say what he’s about to but “Forever.” And Louis looks up again, blue eyes brimming with tears and, “Forever?” His voice cracks and there’s a lump in his voice. Harry looks away, because he knows if he sees Louis cry he’ll take it all back say it was a mistake jump into his arms and kiss the tears away and lick and bite all over until Louis is either smiling, laughing, moaning, whimpering or all of the above. 

“Forever, yeah.” Harry says with a type of finalization in his voice. And he doesn’t hear Louis crying, he doesn’t hear Louis literally choking on his sobs, he doesn’t hear Louis get up, walk out the room, and start chugging a bottle of whatever off-brand alcohol they have. He doesn’t hear the bottle crash against the floor. Except he does, and he wishes he could take it all back. He wishes he could cuddle Louis until he feels better again. But he can’t, he shouldn’t, he won’t. And Louis comes back into the room, face red(from crying, from anger? Harry can’t really tell which). And he grabs Harry’s newer photo folder(the one with the photos after Louis) and he inspects them. And he rips them and tears them. And Harry just sits in a corner knees tucked under his chin letting Louis rip and tear and thrash and cut and it’s ok, because Harry didn’t really like those pictures all that much anyway. They were too dark, too melodramatic. Reflected his life well though, he thinks. But when Louis’ hands go for Harry older photos Harry’s up and grabbing at his hands.

“No.” Harry growls pushing Louis away from his photographs. Louis falls to the ground with a yelp. And Harry is walking out of the flat leaving Louis sobbing on the floor. And Louis is curled up into a ball his lungs feel too constricted for this. He can’t breathe. He doesn’t want to. He doesn’t know how long he stays on the floor but when he wakes up it’s night time and he realizes he has to go. 

Liam startles when he hears his door burst open and Harry is falling on the ground of Liam’s flat before he can properly get through the entryway. 

“Shit, Haz. What happened?” Liam zeroes in on the bruises on Harry’s wrists and arms and thinks he and Louis had a fight(an actual fist fight). But no, it was just rough angry sex Harry tells Liam bluntly. Liam doesn’t ask anymore questions because he can tell Harry isn’t up for it. So he simply cuddles him into his side and runs his fingers through his curls catching them and pulling every once in a while, because he knows Harry likes it. And for right now they’re both content.

Harry comes back to their flat-his flat now, he thinks, to see Louis’ belongings completely gone. His writings, his photos, his bed sheets, his clothes, his CDs, his movies, the white sweater he gave Harry last Christmas, the mix tape he made Harry for his birthday. The flat is half empty now, if Harry squinted he’s sure he could see tumbleweeds floating along in the distance. Harry crouches down on the floor tucking his knees under his chin. He takes in a few shaky breaths before “Louis?” His voice cracks and his throat is dry, but he does it again and “Louis? Louis, please.” And that’s it. Louis’ gone. Forever now. Harry thinks back to the day before and cringes when he hears his own voice finalizing the “Forever.” and shakes when he hears the hurt in Louis’. 

Two months later, about 50 bottles of vodka later, 10 seasons of The Bachelor later, 20 pints of ice cream later. Liam is sick of Harry’s moping and he’s all but kicking down the door of Harry’s flat. Harry doesn’t move from his position of the couch but when Liam finds the spare key and lets himself in he turns his head slowly to the door and quickly turns back to the newest episode of The Bachelor.

Liam huffs and he plops himself on the worn couch. He gives Harry about two minutes then “You look like crap, Haz.” Harry mutters a thanks Liam and adds a you always the best encouraging words. “Quit moping, it’s depressing and I’m trying to be happy.” Liam huffs pulling on Harry’s blanket to cover him too. “Why are you happy?” Harry asks pretending to be barely curious. 

And Liam doesn’t answer for a while but when he does “I met someone.” And Harry feels his heart constrict, because  _I met someone._ And Harry doesn’t understand because Liam is his and only his. Neither one of them have really needed anyone in their lives except for each other and the fact that Liam is trying to change that makes Harry sick. And Harry jumps of from the couch and sprints to the bathroom with Liam on his tail. And Harry is puking into the toilet dark green and light pink(he likes strawberry ice cream) mixes with the bleached porcelain of the toilet bowl. And Liam is rubbing circles into his back whispering sweet nothings like “it’s ok Harry.” And Harry sits up and cries and he cries more than he has these two months(and he’s cried a lot). Everyone is leaving. Louis now Liam. He can’t do this alone, his life he means. He needs someone there. And Liam is looking at him with his permanent wide concerned eyes and “Harry, are you ok?” And Harry doesn’t answer, he can’t. He just cries and cries into Liam’s shoulder. And he cries until his throat is raw and he’s hiccuping. “Everyone’s leaving me Liam, I can’t do this alone.” And Liam laughs humorlessly and Harry’s pissed because this isn’t funny at all. And Liam grabs Harry before he can get up and walk away and he slams him back into his lap and before Harry knows it his lips are on Liam’s. Neither know who initiated it first, but it feels good and that’s all that matters. And they’ve done this before, whenever either is bored or for comfort or just to tell the other “I’m here, I love you.” And Harry is leaning into Liam’s arms a bit more, pressing onto his lips a bit more before he breaks away with a smile. “I could never leave you Harry.” And Harry smiles, because that’s all he wanted. “What’s his name?” Harry asks softly and Liam startles because how did Harry know it was a guy. Harry laughs quietly and “because I know you, Liam.” And Liam blushes and says ‘Zayn.” And Harry strokes Liam’s cheek where the fading blush reappears and repeats, “Zayn, I like it.” And Liam cuddles Harry into his arms and they’re both pretty content.

Another three months pasts and Harry meets Zayn and he’s a good guy, stable, Harry thinks. He’s good for Liam. Once he gets past the nagging in his heart, he’s happy for them. And he sees Louis again. He’s in that damn coffee shop down the street from Louis’ flat and he’s wearing a beanie-it’s mine, Harry notes. And Harry sits down across from Louis in the same seat at the same table from a year ago and “Hi, I’m Harry.” And Louis looks up startled and he smiles, just a bit and “I’m Louis and I’ve missed you.” And Harry looks at Louis’ smile and he nods, it’s going to be ok, they’re going to be ok, whatever happens it’ll all be ok.


End file.
